


Milk tea

by ToxicPineapple



Series: Femslash February 2021 [22]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Arguments, Conversations, F/F, Femslash February, Hurt/No Comfort, In a way, Online Friendship, Pining, Pre-Game Akamatsu Kaede, Pre-Game Personalities (New Dangan Ronpa V3), Pre-Game Shirogane Tsumugi, Suicide mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29568525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ToxicPineapple/pseuds/ToxicPineapple
Summary: Despite Akamatsu’s (humiliating) anxiety, when Shirogane enters the cafe, shielding her eyes with a hand and glancing around, like she’s not entirely certain she’s at the right place, Akamatsu recognises her immediately. It’s hard not to, with Shirogane’s load of blue hair, and the messenger bag slung over her shoulder, with the surplus of Danganronpa charms and keychains pinned and dangling from the front. She certainly sticks out in a crowd, and Akamatsu thinks that, were Shirogane not such a quiet person, she’d be more openly proud of it. As things are, she ducks her head a little upon being greeted by the barista, pulling out her wallet and paying for her drink before she turns to face Akamatsu.The smile that lights up her face is radiant enough that Akamatsu musters up a curve of her own lip, lackluster by all means compared to her friend’s, but whatever. It isn’t a competition, and Shirogane’s known her long enough by now to know that by her standards, that’s generous.---Akamatsu and Shirogane meet up before Shirogane joins Season 52 of Danganronpa.---Femslash February day twenty two: Phone
Relationships: Akamatsu Kaede/Shirogane Tsumugi
Series: Femslash February 2021 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137446
Comments: 12
Kudos: 13





	Milk tea

**Author's Note:**

> written for day twenty two of femslash february! the prompt i used was "phone" and you can find a complete list in the series description

Akamatsu looks down at her phone, resting her elbow on the arm rest of her seat and tabbing out of Discord, over into her gallery, where she has the photos of Shirogane’s outfit today saved.

It’s a nervous habit, and Akamatsu is a bit exasperated at herself for indulging in it, but she just wants to make sure she doesn’t miss Shirogane, that’s all. The pictures, when Akamatsu opens them up, are exactly as she remembers them, which makes her feel even sillier for doing so, but she’s already here. Shirogane is dressed as nicely as she always is in her OOTD pictures, today in a dark green blouse over beige slacks and a pretty yellow cardigan. Her blue hair is tied out of her face in a messy bun, and she’s traded out her usual oval glasses for a larger, chunkier pair of green ones.

Her makeup is a bit difficult to make out from the mirror selfies, but Shirogane has always had a talented hand when it comes to doing herself up, so Akamatsu is sure she looks nice. It made her feel a bit embarrassed, when the texts came in, to be wearing her school uniform still upon entering the cafe. Her and Momota’s apartment is only a short walk away from here, but Akamatsu doesn’t see a point in leaving and coming back just to change. Besides, most of her nice clothes are in the wash right now; the school uniform is the prettiest thing she has readily available, so it’ll have to do.

Shirogane probably won’t care. She’s a down to earth, girl-next-door type of person (or at least that’s the image that she presents; Akamatsu is too skeptical to accept that at face value, but it is what it is) so Akamatsu doubts she’ll be making a whole lot of judgements about her attire. Whatever she does think, she’ll probably keep it to herself, and it’ll be fine.

Despite Akamatsu’s (humiliating) anxiety, when Shirogane enters the cafe, shielding her eyes with a hand and glancing around, like she’s not entirely certain she’s at the right place, Akamatsu recognises her immediately. It’s hard not to, with Shirogane’s load of blue hair, and the messenger bag slung over her shoulder, with the surplus of  _ Danganronpa  _ charms and keychains pinned and dangling from the front. She certainly sticks out in a crowd, and Akamatsu thinks that, were Shirogane not such a quiet person, she’d be more openly proud of it. As things are, she ducks her head a little upon being greeted by the barista, pulling out her wallet and paying for her drink before she turns to face Akamatsu.

The smile that lights up her face is radiant enough that Akamatsu musters up a curve of her own lip, lackluster by all means compared to her friend’s, but whatever. It isn’t a competition, and Shirogane’s known her long enough by now to know that by her standards, that’s generous.

“Akamatsu-san,” Shirogane is slightly breathless when she sits down, resting the little buzzer they gave her on the table and sliding her messenger bag off her shoulder. “It’s good to see you! I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?”

“Not long,” Akamatsu dismisses, with a shrug. “It doesn’t matter. People are naturally irresponsible and self-centered. I’m used to it.”

Shirogane giggles. “You’re the same as ever. Wouldn’t you want to be a bit more friendly today?”   
  


“Why would I?” Akamatsu shoots Shirogane a disdainful look.

“Well, I’m off for  _ Danganronpa  _ tomorrow, you know,” Shirogane’s fingernails, painted black, drum against her knee, and Akamatsu watches the movement rather than meeting her eyes. “Season fifty two.”

Akamatsu knows. Shirogane has been talking about the upcoming season ever since she auditioned for it, ever since she got in. Akamatsu herself is in the year below Shirogane, so she wasn’t old enough to audition this year; but she will next year, that one’s for sure. There’s a part of her that’s jealous, that resents Shirogane for getting to go so soon and for throwing it in Akamatsu’s face every couple of seconds, but…

She’s just excited, that’s all, and Akamatsu hates feeling jealous. It’s one of those ugly, purely  _ human  _ emotions that she detests so much, and she’d rather try and repress it, if entirely possible.

If Shirogane is keyed in to Akamatsu’s sudden wave of irritation, she doesn’t say anything about it. Her buzzer goes off, and she scoops it up, smiling broadly and turning to walk up to the counter for her drink. Akamatsu watches her go through half-lidded eyes, leaning back in her chair and reaching for her own cup. Shirogane is carrying a tall glass of milk tea when she returns, two thick straws held in her hand, and she pierces the wrappers of both of them at the same time, sliding the straws into the creamy drink and holding the cup out to Akamatsu to try.

Whether this is because Shirogane knows Akamatsu can’t really afford to get milk tea, or simply because she just wants to share, Akamatsu doesn’t know. If she didn’t know Shirogane any better, she’d almost call it an advance, but Shirogane isn’t really the flirting type. Despite her looks, the way she makes herself up and dresses and holds all the attention in the room, Shirogane would rather fade into the background, become somebody who can disappear when they’re right in front of you, slip out of conversations the moment they become boring to her without leaving a gap.

Akamatsu can understand the desire, she supposes, even if sometimes she wishes that Shirogane, who is all cheery smiles and beautiful makeup and soft, honey-like laughter, would  _ be  _ flirting with her, for real, not just… being friendly.

Whatever. Akamatsu swallows the emotion and leans forward to try some of the drink. It’s jazmine, and it’s pleasantly sweet, and the couple tapioca pearls that come up through the straw are soft and chewy. Shirogane takes a sip of her own (using her own straw) and then places the glass between them. An invitation. Akamatsu probably won’t accept it, unless Shirogane offers it again.

She probably will. She’s that sort of person.

“How was school?” Shirogane prompts. She settles back into her seat.

“Not worth mentioning,” Akamatsu shrugs. “I don’t want to talk about school. Do you know what kind of character they’re going to make you in  _ Danganronpa?” _

The smile Shirogane offers to that is wry. “Do you really want to talk about  _ Danganronpa?” _

“It’s your hyperfixation.”

“You hate it.”

“I’m signing up for it, though.”

“But that’s only because you want to die.”

Akamatsu frowns. Shirogane is right, but she wishes she wouldn’t say that. Wishes, for once, that Shirogane was any more the kind of person that Akamatsu despises, wishes she’d pretend that both of them are happy, that she isn’t going to disappear forever tomorrow.

Sure, the killing game is a simulation. Nobody really  _ dies  _ when they enter  _ Danganronpa,  _ not physically. But your personality, your memories, everything that you were… it all disappears. You become someone new. Someone better, usually. (Or someone worse, but by the time that happens, the person you were before is no longer real enough to care.)

That’s the appeal of it, for Akamatsu, and for Shirogane. Even if Akamatsu likes Shirogane Tsumugi, the friend she met online and allowed to drag her to a convention. She’s got no right to deny Shirogane what she herself wants so badly. The chance to disappear.

Which is why Akamatsu shrugs.

“Fine, but I don’t want to talk about me right now. I want to talk about you. You’re the one who leaves tomorrow. Whatever we say about me, you’re not going to remember it later, either way.” Akamatsu picks up her own drink again, her coffee, and takes a sip of it. It’s bitter. She swallows it down.

“You know, they say sometimes that former contestants remember bits and pieces of the people they loved before the game,” Shirogane remarks. She picks up her own milk tea and drinks some of it, and as she returns it to its spot between them, she chews a tapioca pearl. “Fragments.”

Spitefully, Akamatsu reaches out and grabs the milk tea, taking a sip of her own, and glares at Shirogane. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what?”

“Someone you love.”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“But it won’t be,” Akamatsu hisses, and Shirogane stops talking at that, a frown appearing on her face.

“Kaede--”

“And in a year, I won’t remember it either.” She drinks more of the milk tea, and puts it down. This one tastes bitter now, too. “So it’ll be like it never happened.”

Shirogane is still frowning. “I guess it will.”

“Isn’t that what both of us want?” Akamatsu grins, and picks up her phone again, opening Discord and blinking quickly, as though to keep away her tears. When she sneaks a glance back up at Shirogane, Shirogane is still frowning, her gaze affixed to a spot on the floor, a faraway look on her face, and Akamatsu gets the sense that no, no, this isn’t what either of them want. Not really.

But they’re going to do it anyway, aren’t they, so what difference does it make?

**Author's Note:**

> i vividly remember promising someone that this was going to be fluffy. i swear that i CAN write tsumugi being happy i just choose not to i guess
> 
> i do like.... pregame kaede. i wrote her last year for femslash february too. so bored of the pregame boys why can't we get more women up in these parts.


End file.
